BareNaked
by Befanini
Summary: In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing. Rated sxgxs.


**March 10, 2006**

**Title: BareNaked (Part 11 of Barely Breathing)**

**Author: Befanini**

**Disclaimer: **I wish. Enough said. XD This is just an insomniac's daydreams.

**Rating: **M 

**Summary: **In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing. Rated sxgxs.

**Dedication:**

For C4PyroGirl, the best "stalker" a girl could have. XD I _told_ you, didn't I…

For Mangamamma, who first honored me. :)

For Jessica, who knows _why_. X3

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**A/N: **To read the amazing piece that inspired this madness, go to: communityDOTlivejournalDOTcomSLASHloveUNDERSCOREorUNDERSCOREdeathSLASH62303DOThtml#cutid1

Quote used in the summary by Mignon McLaughlin.

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#01 – Comfort**

Comfort is the cold feel of metal on my skin… the rings on Sanzo's arm gloves. Yeah, and sometimes the gun too, when we're feeling extra kinky. Heh.

Comfort is red raining down on me, obscuring my vision of the outside world, falling over my face in a sheer, silken curtain… drowning out even the rain.

**#02 – Kiss**

There's the kiss that the whole world is witness to… sometimes, when we light our cigarettes from the other's. Rarely.

And then there are the kisses that only we know about, the ones that result in spontaneous combustion. At all times that we could steal away.

**#03 – Soft**

The tendrils of hair at his nape. Unbelievably so.

Don't you believe it. He may look and act tough, but he has the softest heart.

**#04 – Pain**

Sanzo. Wounded, fallen, bleeding, unconscious, helpless, in danger, in coma. I _choke_ when he's hurt.

Gojyo. Everytime some ignorant, arrogant _fuck_ is stupid enough to insult him… or even when it's just plain circumstance and the harsh reality of this stupid world. He is NOT a filthy halfbreed. He is a taboo child, yes, and he is _beautiful_.

**#05 – Potatoes**

The way he drowns his mash in butter, and those golden eyelashes drift down as he takes a blissful mouthful. Doesn't the damn monk know gluttony is a sin?

A spot on the corner of his mouth shining with grease from the french fry he's sucking on. His eyes catch mine as his tongue darts out to lick it off. Bastard.

**#06 – Rain**

Rain means a sullen, silent Sanzo, devouring my mouth with hard, brutal lips, fingers buried painfully in my hair, hips slamming into me savagely, seeking to empty his pain into my yielding flesh, and I am his willing slave.

… And at other times rain means the tenderness I find in ardent red eyes, as strong brown arms wrap me in their embrace, and gentle hands and soft lips and a low, silky voice devoid of its usual teasing soothe me and quiet me, and all my anguish is swallowed up and obliterated in the heat and passion of his possession.

**#07 – Chocolate**

The things I do with chocolate are a _sin. _Heh.

The games he dreams up with chocolate are _blasphemous. _Especially with brandy-flavored dark chocolate…

**#08 – Happiness**

Happiness is waking up from a nap, cramped, dusty, and bored; and catching him gazing at me with soft eyes in the rearview mirror.

Happiness is lying naked in bed, rereading the paper, and knowing he's coming in a few minutes to spend most of the night.

**#09 – Telephone**

Once we stayed in this really fancy place, and by a rotten twist of luck Goku roomed with Sanzo while I shared with Hakkai. Even meeting in the private bath wasn't enough; and I spent three hours whispering naughty things to him on the telephone. Heh.

And the hotel bill the next day must have given the Sanbutshushin multiple heart attacks. (NO, we are NOT getting mobile phones!) _(Pleaaaze…)_ ('Ch. NO.)

**#10 – Ears**

Sanzo has the cutest ears. Like a girl's. _(Twitch.)_ I love nipping them with my teeth.

And the damn pervert's ears are his most sensitive spot. _(Shaddap, monk!)_ He _melts _when I—mmphh!

**#11 – Name**

Angel. Baby. My Sanzo.

… Baby. (Fierce blush) Sometimes. When he's not too annoying.

**#12 – Sensual**

Black top. Arm gloves. Cold face and wild passion blazing in cool amethyst eyes. The way he loads his gun. _Damn._

Generous lips. Lazy, seductive drawl. Swagger. Hell, _everything_ about the bastard is sensual.

**#13 – Death**

I die a little death each time I look past today and contemplate the future after the journey west is ended. How could I ever let him go now…?

There _has_ to be a way, beyond this stupid mission. There has to be. I'd be as good as dead without him tormenting me. I'd rather die than give up his voice murmuring huskily in my ear.

**#14 – Sex**

No matter how it happens – slow and gentle, hard and furious, teasing and leisurely, frantic and urgent – it always somehow, nowadays, ends with a fleeting soft look, and an even softer kiss bestowed with silent, reverent lips.

**#15 – Touch**

I _crave_ his skin against my own. I need it like I need air to breathe.

He taught me to enjoy being touched… and to _ache_ to touch him in return.

**#16 – Weakness**

He only _looks_ fragile. But the man is so strong – in body, in will, in spirit – he's so strong he makes me weak.

If I _had_ a weakness… it would be the way he moans my name, like he's drowning.

**#17 – Tears**

My brother always told me "don't cry". When I finally GOT it – it was _his_ voice I heard, Sanzo's, as the salty wetness flowed down my face for the first time. _"You won't change anything by dying. But you can change something by choosing to live."_ Trapped in that labyrinth of mist, his words finally enlightened me about what Jien had been trying to say all along. "It's only tears."

Only he has seen me cry. I woke up from that damn nightmare, my face streaked with stupid tears, and there he was, in the corner, apparently watching over me. And he said not a word about them. He just offered his gruff companionship and his broad shoulder, and I went back to an exhausted, healing sleep… knowing he was there with me.

**#18 – Speed**

Hell, no! My endurance is legend. Heh. _(Baka…) _That fleeting, burning glance across the campfire, swiftly shuttered by golden eyelashes falling down to curtain passionate purple depths.

Copping a feel in the midst of battle? He's a legend, alright. 'Ch. _(Hehehe…)_

**#19 – Wind**

The wind is a nice excuse to huddle up, all four of us together; and I can lean into Sanzo and put my arm around him freely as we all wait out the storm.

Sometimes it gets too windy on the road, and Gojyo pulls his hair up into a messy ponytail… and I can't decide whether he's sexier with his hair up or his hair down.

**#20 – Freedom**

Freedom is following him wherever he leads, for the rest of my life. And I don't care about permission or give a damn about approval either. _(I never asked you to come with me…) _(I know, I know.)

Freedom means standing tall in the middle of a pack of youkai, confident that his blade will slice through them all even if I have run out of bullets.

**#21 – Life**

He taught me that. He restored my belief in it. _"The ones with the strongest will to live are the ones who survive." _Somehow, I'm not just 'existing' anymore. I have never felt so alive.

He taught me the sweetness of _sin_, and infused this jaded soul with a new lust for living.

**#22 – Jealousy**

I hate that the whole world wants a piece of him. I want him all to myself. And all the stares and admiring glances he gets wherever we go… I have to restrain myself every time from shouting out loud. He's MINE, dammit!

I would absolutely RELISH putting a bullet through anyone who's ever known the pleasure of his body in the past. He's _mine_, dammit! _(Hehehe…) _(You'll shut up if you know what's good for you, asshole.)

**#23 – Hands**

I love his hands in my hair, cradling my skull, clasping my head to his shoulder when we sleep.

He has the most amazing gift for kneading away knots of tension on my back and neck. _(My hands also have amazing talent for _creating_ "tension" in other places, hehehe…)_ (U-ru-sei…)

**#24 – Taste**

He tastes pure. Like spring rain, like the ocean spray, like morning dew and a roaring waterfall. And yes, he tastes like sunshine. He tastes _divine._

He tastes earthy, and lush, and exotic. Like lemongrass, and pomegranate, and passionfruit. Like blackforest gateaux and wild raspberries. Like rum and whiskey, and bourbon vanilla. He tastes like _sin._

**#25 – Devotion**

My hands are not tied by fate, or obligation. I'm with him because I _choose _to be.

The moment those red eyes gazed into mine, and he opened himself and exposed his vulnerability… the primal and savage way that he let me glimpse his pain… well, I _had_ no choice, really. From that moment on I found myself doing things where he was concerned that completely contradicted the outward contempt that I displayed toward him. Go figure. The truth is, he got under my skin from day one. It just took me a while to admit to myself that I liked having him there… and that it's where he _belongs._

**#26 – Forever**

And ever and ever. No matter what. No matter where. _There's no escape from me…_

_Sigh. Ain't that the truth. _… And I wouldn't have it any other way.

**#27 – Blood**

Because of him, my blood-red hair and eyes seem less of an admonishment and more of what marks me as a survivor with the will to live. Against all odds.

Because of him, I escape death countless times… whether he's giving me his blood, or bleeding himself protecting me in battle.

**#28 – Sickness **

He can be so tender and caring when I'm sick. Heh.

He's a big baby when he's sick. End of story. _(OI!) _… and he keeps patient, unceasing vigil over me when I'm down. _(That's more like it…)_

**#29 – Melody**

He never sings to me, the way I do to him; but sometimes when I'm blue he pushes my head down on his lap and combs his fingers through my hair and he hums softly to me.

The bastard has a _beautiful_ singing voice. Pity it's so annoying the rest of the time. _(Objection, your honor!)_ (See what I mean?)

**#30 – Star**

He likes to stargaze. I keep him company, and enjoy playing the student as he teaches me bits and pieces of astronomy.

It's nice to be quiet together, on our backs, having a few smokes, and perhaps a bottle of sake between us.

**#31 – Home**

Wherever he is.

… Wherever he is.

**#32 – Confusion**

It used to confuse the hell out of me, the way he'd snarl and push me away in utter disgust when I tried to put a friendly arm around him… and then he'd turn around and pull out the fan if I so much as smiled at a pretty girl. _My Sanzo…_

I can't _think_ straight when he's near. Damn hot-blooded rascal.

**#33 – Fear**

He's human. I'm half-breed. You do the math. It doesn't bear thinking about.

That Hazel bitch hit a nerve. Any of them can _still _turn, especially the closer we get to our goal… And the thought of watching the passion fading from those beautiful scarlet eyes as I put a bullet between them tears me up inside.

**#34 – Lightning/Thunder**

When he pours himself inside me, I see lightning behind my closed eyes as I gasp and get sucked into a blinding climax with him.

When he empties himself inside me, all I hear is the thundering of my heart as it pounds release through me and my pleasure peaks with his.

**#35 – Bonds**

The sash on his robes, or even my bandanna. Heh. The Jakujou, the Maten Sutra… _(THWAK!) _No, seriously. I'd handcuff him to me for life and swallow the key.

… Muichimotsu be damned. My soul bound itself to his long before I even knew it.

**#36 – Market**

Can you say pickled ginger? Hehehe…

(Urusei!) And what about him and his perverted toys… _(Ah, but you know those toys are for us to play with…)_ (Shut up! Think about your sins and don't go making me add to my own!)

**#37 – Technology**

Huh. He's been neglecting me a lot lately since he got hooked on gaming. He's an _addict, _I tell you. It's _sick._

'Ch. At least I don't spend _hours_ on the Internet wasting my time downloading obscene files. _(OI! For your information, I surf for 353 fiction and fanart, baka!)_

**#38 – Gift**

I'll tell you a secret. I have a lucky charm. I keep it with me all the time. It's a _single red bead. _He gave it to me, after that Rikudo business. Tossed it to me oh-so-casually, with the cool remark that since I recognized the beads for what they were, that he figured I deserved a little souvenir. His way of saying thanks for letting him sneak out so he could finish the job. Can you imagine? He actually gave me a tiny little bead, and I cherish it like it's the most precious thing in the world. I treasure it for the words unspoken that came with the gift. _Stay safe. For my happiness._

He's tried to give me so many absurd things – sometimes silly, sometimes sentimental. But I already have his gift… it's inside me, pumping in my veins. I guess that's how he's managed to turn me into as much of a pervert as he is. _(Smirk)_

**#39 – Smile**

A quirk of the lips and I want to gobble him up. Pity he doesn't do it more often – he has the sexiest smile. Yes, I admit it. Even sexier than mine, and that's saying a lot.

Hn. Roguish, feral, naughty, flirty, defiant, taunting, or amused… watch how he smiles at the little kids. _That's _the smile that gets me.

**#40 – Innocence**

He has the face of a fallen angel… And I have to keep telling him it's not my fault if I'm still a chick magnet. He ought to know by now he's the only number in my little black book these days. Honestly!

(Snort) Lying in his arms in the dark, I feel pure and whole and untainted. When he presses his lips to my forehead, like I'm a little child… he somehow bestows me the innocence I never really had.

**#41 – Completion**

I've been broken, and I've bled, and I've stumbled, and been blind… And yet when he threads possessive fingers through my hair, and gazes passionately into these eyes, and places tender kisses over my scars… he restores me, and I am whole.

At the close of day, there is only him -- large, knowing hands, hard bronzed body, silken hair and eager lips and claret eyes full of wild worship… and I lose myself in him, and he loses himself in me, until there is no distinction between us. The fucking mission be _damned. Nothing else matters._

**#42 – Clouds**

Ever played the cloud game? All the bakazaru sees is food, food, and more food. Occasionally, when Hakkai gets a chance, he sees weird, exotic animals. The damn monk refuses to play. Big surprise. Me, I see the _strangest_ things…

He sees _perverted_ things. Period. _(Oi! I see US doing perverted things, if you must know…)_ I don't waste a breath on those loud morons, I just try to imagine an orange paper airplane – but all I see these days are red flowers…

**#43 – Sky**

On the road, hands linked behind my head, and golden hair blowing in the breeze in front of me… I lean back, squint up into that cerulean blue, and dream dreams.

On the road, hands folded inside my sleeves, and with wicked red eyes caressing the back of my head… I look at the horizon and confirm to myself: the journey is what matters.

**#44 – Heaven**

He is sheathed inside me to the hilt, and we are almost there, and our breaths hitch and he tears his mouth away; and he buries his face on my shoulder and bites down on my flesh and I arch up into him and howl as intense pleasure roars through us both.

He pulses inside me at the same moment that I release in his hand, and he collapses down full length on top of me, a weight that I relish, pinning me down as he drowns me with greedy, tender kisses.

**#45 – Hell**

I watch him crawling on the floor at my feet, gasping, his beautiful body bruised and battered, but with his jaw set and a steely light in those fierce amethyst depths that refuses to cower… and I am _broken_, knowing that _I _am the cause of his pain – knowing that his strength is sapped and his soul is in agony because of _me_, because I broke away against his wishes to pursue my own, to right a bitter sense of injustice against two innocent souls, and I forced them to come after me. … And now the sight of him there, as he collapses at my feet stabs me with harsh, razor-sharp _rebuke_, more than any threats or curses or bullets ever could. I've said it before – I choke when he's hurt – and knowing _I _brought this pain upon him is a cross I find I have hardly the strength to bear. I _hate_ myself for causing those tears that streak his proud porcelain face.

To stand there above him, and order Goku to hold him down, as the cruel seed takes root in him and ravages his body… More than the horror on Hakkai's face at the spectacle of me, his "savior", _seriously_ pointing a gun at his best friend… More than the confusion and terror on the bakazaru's bewildered face… More even than the desperate defiance and wild rebellion in those cocky red eyes… It is the terrible knowledge that _I hold Gojyo's life in my hands_, and the margin of error is so slim that it's ridiculous. Without precious time to waste in doubts or hesitation, I look down the barrel of my gun, and for the first time the weight of steel and the smell of gunpowder hangs heavily over me, as I aim at the magnificently bold and maddeningly infuriating bastard's heart – I take a deep breath, a silent prayer to the damn, _fucking_ gods passes my lips without words, and I _fire_. … And his chest explodes with the deafening roar of the shot, and crimson colors my vision, and I am in _HELL_ as Hakkai drops to his knees and frantically applies his chi… And then, through the thundering in my ears I hear _"He's alive!"_, and I'm back to cursing the bastard for having put me through that nightmare.

**#46 – Sun**

For me, it's not his hair that's like the sun. It's his voice. It is arresting and incandescent, beautiful enough to embrace, if you could. It can burn and sting, as much as it can send warmth through to your very fingertips… encompassing you, enveloping you in its radiance. It's true – the moment I heard his voice, I was lost… And these days, when he's in a mellow, tender mood, and he holds me and tells me that I'm his… I am as overwhelmed as I feel watching the heartbreaking beauty of the setting sun.

That is what he is to me – the blood-red, pulsing glow of the setting sun. He is fiery yet gentle, he sets me aflame and soothes me at the same time. Believe it – he is all the clichés that that dusky orb at day's end brings to mind. He is romantic, and passionate, and ardent, and at times so softly tender… that I almost forget how he's so irritating half of the time. _(You just HAD to slip that in, didn't you, you bastard…) _(Smirk)

**#47 – Moon**

I swear, his skin is made of moonlight.

The weapon that protects me has a blade in the shape of a crescent moon.

**#48 – Waves**

Wave upon wave upon wave of sheer _bliss_… Can you honestly blame me for having to –er – "adjust my trouser size"? Heh. _(Baka…) _(That's baka ERO kappa to you.)

His voice is like the waves of the sea. Seductive, mysterious, wild and lazy and free. (Happy now?) _(You bet, baby…) _His voice is his _true_ weapon. Never mind the "long legs" and the maverick long hair and the come-hither eyes and the sexy grin. The moment he speaks, and that voice washes over you – that's what makes him irresistible. And devilishly wily, and wheedlesome, and persuasive. The rogue has the art of teasing down to a capital T.

**#49 – Hair**

I seem to remember doing to him, once long ago, what he now loves doing to me… losing his hands in my hair. Weird, huh?

Stranger still – _I remember it too. _(What the fuck?)

**#50 – Supernova**

Unfathomable energy. Scalding heat. Blinding light. Destruction and chaos giving birth to a new celestial body… Clashing ions, churning elements, pulsing and spinning crazily in space… Raw and primal and as natural as anything else in the universe. Intense and savage, merciless and powerful – obliterating all in its path, sucking everything in, a whirlwind, a tempest, a cosmic storm. Timeless, and pure, and total. An epic explosion that rocks the very Heavens, and then it collapses back on itself – oblivious, self-absorbed, and complete. Fulfilled. The maelstrom metamorphosed into a maverick new star – surviving the turmoil and the conflict, having gathered all that writhing, shifting turbulence and bending it forcefully to its will, taking command of its destiny, and earning its rightful place in the Heavens… And the cycle repeats itself through the ages. _THAT is the story of us._

-owari-


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